Chelsea College has been supposed by foreigners to be an institution for the teaching of orthography; probably in consequence of a passage in the well known song in “The Waterman,”

“Never more at Chelsea Ferry,
Shall your Thomas take a spell.”

Q. Why is a dunce no conjuror?

A. Because he cannot spell.

Among the various kinds of spelling may be enumerated spelling for a favour; or giving what is called a broad hint.

Certain rules for the division of words into syllables are laid down in some grammars, and we should be very glad to follow the established usage, but, limited as we are by considerations of comicality and space, we cannot afford to give more than two very general directions. If you do not know how to spell a word, look it out in the dictionary, and if you have no dictionary by you, write the word in such a way, that, while it may be guessed at, it shall not be legible.

CHAPTER III.

OF WORDS IN GENERAL.

There is no one question that we are aware of more puzzling than this, “What is your opinion of things in general?” Words in general are, fortunately for us, a subject on which the formation of an opinion is somewhat more easy. Words stand for things: they are a sort of counters, checks, bank-notes, and sometimes, indeed, they are notes for which people get a great deal of money. Such words, however, are, alas! not English words, or words sterling. Strange! that so much should be given for a mere song. It is quite clear that the givers, whatever may be their pretensions to a refined or literary taste, must be entirely unacquainted with Wordsworth.

Fine words are oily enough, and he who uses them is vulgarly said to “cut it fat;” but for all that it is well known that they will not butter parsnips.

Some say that words are but wind: for this reason, when people are having words, it is often said, that “the wind’s up.”

Different words please different people. Philosophers are fond of hard words; pedants of tough words, long words, and crackjaw words; bullies, of rough words; boasters, of big words; the rising generation, of slang words; fashionable people, of French words; wits, of sharp words and smart words; and ladies, of nice words, sweet words, soft words, and soothing words; and, indeed, of words in general.

Words (when spoken) are articulate sounds used by common consent as signs of our ideas.

A word of one syllable is called a Monosyllable: as, you, are, a, great, oaf.

A word of two syllables is named a Dissyllable; as, cat-gut, mu-sic.

A word of three syllables is termed a Trisyllable; as, Mag-net-ism, Mum-mer-y.

A word of four or more syllables is entitled a Polysyllable; as, in-ter-mi-na-ble, cir-cum-lo-cu-ti-on, ex-as-pe-ra-ted, func-ti-o-na-ry, met-ro-po-li-tan, ro-tun-di-ty.

Words of more syllables than one are sometimes comically contracted into one syllable; as, in s’pose for suppose, b’lieve for believe, and ’scuse for excuse: here, perhaps, ’buss, abbreviated from omnibus, deserves to be mentioned.

In like manner, many long words are elegantly trimmed and shortened; as, ornary for ordinary, ’strornary for extraordinary, and curosity for curiosity; to which mysterus for mysterious may also be added.

Polysyllables are an essential element in the sublime, both in poetry and in prose; but especially in that species of the sublime which borders very closely on the ridiculous; as,

“Aldiborontiphoscophormio,
Where left’st thou Chrononhotonthologos?”

All words are either primitive or derivative. A primitive word is that which cannot be reduced to any simpler word in the language; as, brass, York, knave. A derivative word, under the head of which compound words are also included, is that which may be reduced to another and a more simple word in the English language; as, brazen, Yorkshire, knavery, mud-lark, lighterman.

Broadbrim is a derivative word; but it is one often applied to a very primitive kind of person.

PART II.
ETYMOLOGY.

CHAPTER I.

A COMICAL VIEW OF THE PARTS OF SPEECH.

Etymology teaches the varieties, modifications, and derivation of words.

The derivation of words means that which they come from as words; for what they come from as sounds, is another matter. Some words come from the heart, and then they are pathetic; others from the nose, in which case they are ludicrous. The funniest place, however, from which words can come, is the stomach. By the way, the Lord Mayor would do well to keep a ventriloquist, from whom, at a moment’s notice, he might ascertain the voice of the corporation.

Comic Etymology teaches us the varieties, modifications, and derivation, of words invested with a comic character.

Grammatically speaking, we say that there are, in English, as many sorts of words as a cat is said to have lives, nine; namely, the Article, the Substantive or Noun, the Adjective, the Pronoun, the Verb, the Adverb, the Preposition, the Conjunction, and the Interjection.

Comically speaking, there are a great many sorts of words which we have not room enough to particularise individually. We can therefore only afford to classify them. For instance; there are words which are spoken in the Low Countries, and are High Dutch to persons of quality; as in Billingsgate, Whitechapel, and St. Giles’s.

Words in use amongst all those who have to do with horses.

Words that pass between rival cab-men.

Words peculiar to the P. R. where the order of the day is generally a word and a blow.

Words spoken in a state of intoxication.

Words uttered under excitement.

Words of endearment, addressed to children in arms.

Similar words, sometimes called burning, tender, soft, and broken words, addressed to young ladies, and whispered, lisped, sighed, or drawled, according to circumstances.

Words of honour; as, tailors’ words and shoemakers’ words; which, like the above-mentioned, or lovers’ words, are very often broken.

With many other sorts of words, which will be readily suggested by the reader’s fancy.

But now let us go on with the parts of speech.

1. An Article is a word prefixed to substantives to point them out, and to show the extent of their meaning; as, a dandy, an ape, the simpleton.

One kind of comic article is otherwise denominated an oddity, or queer article.

Another kind of comic article is often to be met with in Bentley’s Miscellany.

2. A Substantive or Noun is the name of anything that exists, or of which we have any notion; as, tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, apothecary, ploughboy, thief.

Now the above definition of a substantive is Lindley Murray’s, not ours. We mention this, because we have an objection, though, not, perhaps, a serious one, to urge against it; for, in the first place, we have “no notion” of impudence, and yet impudence is a substantive; and, in the second, we invite attention to the following piece of Logic,

A substantive is something,
But nothing is a substantive;
Therefore, nothing is something.

A substantive may generally be known by its taking an article before it, and by its making sense of itself: as, a treat, the mulligrubs, an ache.

3. An Adjective is a word joined to a substantive to denote its quality; as a ragged regiment, an odd set.

You may distinguish an adjective by its making sense with the word thing: as, a poor thing, a sweet thing, a cool thing; or with any particular substantive, as a ticklish position, an awkward mistake, a strange step.

4. A Pronoun is a word used in lieu of a noun, in order to avoid tautology: as, “The man wants calves; he is a lath; he is a walking-stick.”

5. A Verb is a word which signifies to be, to do, or to suffer: as, I am; I calculate; I am fixed.

A verb may usually be distinguished by its making sense with a personal pronoun, or with the word to before it: as I yell, he grins, they caper; or to drink, to smoke, to chew.

Fashionable accomplishments!

Certain substantives are, with peculiar elegance, and by persons who call themselves genteel, converted into verbs: as, “Do you wine?” “Will you malt?” “Let me persuade you to cheese?”

6. An Adverb is a part of speech which, joined to a verb, an adjective, or another adverb, serves to express some quality or circumstance concerning it: as, “She swears dreadfully; she is incorrigibly lazy; and she is almost continually in liquor.”

7. An adverb is generally characterised by answering to the question, How? how much? when? or where? as in the verse, “Merrily danced the Quaker’s wife,” the answer to the question, How did she dance? is, merrily.

8. Prepositions serve to connect words together, and to show the relation between them: as,

“Off with his head, so much for Buckingham!”

9. A Conjunction is used to connect not only words, but sentences also: as, Smith and Jones are happy because they are single. A miss is as good as a mile.

SINGLE BLESSEDNESS.

10. An Interjection is a short word denoting passion or emotion: as, “Oh, Sophonisba! Sophonisba, oh!” Pshaw! Pish! Pooh! Bah! Ah! Au! Eughph! Yah! Hum! Ha! Lauk! La! Lor! Heigho! Well! There! &c.

Among the foregoing interjections there may, perhaps, be some unhonoured by the adoption of genius, and unknown in the domains of literature. For the present notice of them some apology may be required, but little will be given; their insertion may excite astonishment, but their omission would have provoked complaint: though unprovided with a Johnsonian title to a place in the English vocabulary, they have long been recognised by the popular voice; and let it be remembered, that as custom supplies the defects of legislation, so that which is not sanctioned by magisterial authority may nevertheless be justified by vernacular usage.

CHAPTER II.

OF THE ARTICLES.

The Articles in English are two, a and the; a becomes an before a vowel, and before an h which is not sounded: as, an exquisite, an hour-glass. But if the h be pronounced, the a only is used: as, a homicide, a homœopathist, a hum.

This rule is reversed in what is termed the Cockney dialect: as, a inspector, a officer, a object, a omnibus, a individual, a alderman, a honour, an horse, or rather, a norse, an hound, an hunter, &c.

It is usual in the same dialect, when the article an should, in strict propriety, precede a word, to omit the letter n, and further, for the sake of euphony and elegance, to place the aspirate h before the word; as, a hegg, a haccident, a hadverb, a hox. But sometimes, when a word begins with an h, and has the article a before it, the aspirate is omitted, the letter a remaining unchanged: as, a ’ogg, a ’edge, a ’emisphere, a ’ouse.

The slight liberties which it is the privilege of the people to take with the article and aspirate become always most evident in the expression of excited feeling, when the stress which is laid upon certain words is heightened by the peculiarity of the pronunciation: as, “You hignorant hupstart! you hilliterate ’og! ’ow dare you to hoffer such a hinsult to my hunderstanding?—You are a hobject of contempt, you hare, and a hinsolent wagobond! your mother was nothing but a happle-woman, and your father was an ’uckster!”

Note.—In the above example, the ordinary rules of language relative to the article and aspirate (to say nothing of the maxims of politeness) are completely set at nought; but it must be remembered, that in common discourse the modification of the article, and the omission or use of the aspirate, are determined by the Cockneys according to the ease with which particular words are pronounced; as, “Though himpudent, he warn’t as impudent as Bill wur.” Here the word impudent, following a vowel-sound, is most easily pronounced as himpudent, while the same word, coming after a consonant, even in the same sentence, is uttered with greater facility in the usual way.

A or an is called the indefinite article, because it is used, in a vague sense, to point out some one thing belonging to a certain kind, but in other respects indeterminate; as,

“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!”

So say grammarians. Eating-house keepers tell a different story. A cheese, in common discourse, means an object of a certain shape, size, weight, and so on, entire and perfect; so that to call half a cheese a cheese, would constitute a flaw in an indictment against a thief who had stolen one. But a waiter will term a fraction, or a modicum of cheese, a cheese; a plate-full of pudding, a pudding; and a stick of celery, a celery, or rather, a salary. Nay, he will even apply the article a to a word which does not stand for an individual object at all; as a bread, a butter, a bacon. Here we are reminded of the famous exclamation of one of these gentry:—“Master! master! there’s two teas and a brandy-and-water just hopped over the palings!”

The is termed the definite article, inasmuch as it denotes what particular thing or things are meant; as,

“The miller he stole corn,
The weaver he stole yarn,
And the little tailòr he stole broad-cloth
To keep the three rogues warm.”

A substantive to which no article is prefixed is taken in a general sense; as, “Apple sauce is proper for goose;” that is, for all geese.

APPLE-SAUCE.

A few additional remarks may advantageously be made with respect to the articles. The mere substitution of the definite for the indefinite article is capable of changing entirely the meaning of a sentence. “That is a ticket” is the assertion of a certain fact; but “That is the ticket!” means something which is quite different.

The article is not prefixed to a proper name; as, Stubbs, Wiggins, Chubb, or Hobson, except for the sake of distinguishing a particular family, or description of persons; as, He is a Burke; that is, one of the Burkes, or a person resembling Burke. The article is sometimes also prefixed to a proper name, to point out some distinguished individual; as, The Burke, or the great politician, or the resurrectionist, Burke.

Who is the Smith?

The indefinite article is joined to substantives in the singular number only. We have heard people say, however, “He keeps a wine-vaults;” or, to quote more correctly—waltz. The definite article may be joined to plurals also.

The definite article is frequently used with adverbs in the comparative and superlative degree: as, “The longer I live, the broader I grow;” or, as we have all heard the showman say, “This here, gentlemen and ladies, is the vonderful heagle of the sun; the ’otterer it grows, the higherer he flies!”

CHAPTER III.

SECTION I.

OF SUBSTANTIVES IN GENERAL.

Substantives are either proper or common.

Proper names, or substantives, are the names belonging to individuals: as William, Birmingham.

These are sometimes converted into nicknames, or improper names: as Bill, Brummagem.

Common names, or substantives, denote kinds containing many sorts, or sorts containing many individuals under them: as brute, beast, bumpkin, cherub, infant, goblin, &c.

Proper names, when an article is prefixed to them, are employed as common names: as, “They thought him a perfect Chesterfield; he quite astonished the Browns.”

Common names, on the other hand, are made to denote individuals, by the addition of articles or pronouns: as,

“There was a little man, and he had a little gun.”

“That boy will be the death of me!”

Substantives are considered according to gender, number, and case; they are all of the third person when spoken of, and of the second when spoken to: as,

Matilda, fairest maid, who art
In countless bumpers toasted,
O let thy pity baste the heart
Thy fatal charms have roasted!

SECTION II.

OF GENDER.

The distinction between nouns with regard to sex is called Gender. There are three genders; the Masculine, the Feminine, and the Neuter.

The masculine gender belongs to animals of the male kind: as, a fop, a jackass, a boar, a poet, a lion.

The feminine gender is peculiar to animals of the female kind: as, a poetess, a lioness, a goose.

The neuter gender is that of objects which are neither males nor females: as, a toast, a tankard, a pot, a pipe, a pudding, a pie, a sausage, a roll, a muffin, a crumpet, a puff, a cheesecake, a bun, an apricot, an orange, a lollipop, a cream, an ice, a jelly, &c. &c. &c.

We might go on to enumerate an infinity of objects of the neuter gender, of all sorts and kinds; but in the selection of the foregoing examples we have been guided by two considerations:—

1. The desire of exciting agreeable emotions in the mind of the reader.

2. The wish to illustrate the following proposition, “That almost everything nice is also neuter.”

Except, however, a nice young lady, a nice duck, and one or two other nice things, which we do not at present remember.

Some neuter substantives are by a figure of speech converted into the masculine or feminine gender: thus we say of the sun, that when he shines upon a Socialist, he shines upon a thief; and of the moon, that she affects the minds of lovers.

A SOCIALIST.

There are certain nouns with which notions of strength, vigour, and the like qualities, are more particularly connected; and these are the neuter substantives which are figuratively rendered masculine. On the other hand, beauty, amiability, and so forth, are held to invest words with a feminine character. Thus the sun is said to be masculine, and the moon feminine. But for our own part, and our view is confirmed by the discoveries of astronomy, we believe that the sun is called masculine from his supporting and sustaining the moon, and finding her the wherewithal to shine away as she does of a night, when all quiet people are in bed; and from his being obliged to keep such a family of stars besides. The moon, we think, is accounted feminine, because she is thus maintained and kept up in her splendour, like a fine lady, by her husband the sun. Furthermore, the moon is continually changing; on which account alone she might be referred to the feminine gender. The earth is feminine, tricked out, as she is, with gems and flowers. Cities and towns are likewise feminine, because there are as many windings, turnings, and little odd corners in them as there are in the female mind. A ship is feminine, inasmuch as she is blown about by every wind. Virtue is feminine by courtesy. Fortune and misfortune, like mother and daughter, are both feminine. The Church is feminine, because she is married to the state; or married to the state because she is feminine—we do not know which. Time is masculine, because he is so trifled with by the ladies.

“Shan’t I shine to-night, dear?”

The English language distinguishes the sex in three manners; namely,

1. By different words; as,

And several other

Words we don’t mention,
(Pray pardon the crime,)
Worth your attention,
But wanting in rhyme.

2. By a difference of termination; as,

3. By a noun, pronoun, or adjective being prefixed to the substantive; as,

We have heard it said, that every Jack has his Jill. That may be; but it is by no means true that every cock has his hen; for there is a

Cock-swain, but no Hen-swain.
Cock-eye, but no Hen-eye.
Cock-ade, but no Hen-ade.
Cock-atrice, but no Hen-atrice.
Cock-horse, but no Hen-horse.
Cock-ney, but no Hen-ney.

Then we have a weather-cock, but no weather-hen; a turn-cock, but no turn-hen; and many a jolly cock, but not one jolly hen; unless we except some of those by whom their mates are pecked.

Some words; as, parent, child, cousin, friend, neighbour, servant, and several others, are either male or female, according to circumstances. The word blue (used as a substantive) is one of this class.

It is a great pity that our language is so poor in the terminations that denote gender. Were we to say of a woman, that she is a rogue, a knave, a scamp, or a vagabond, we feel that we should use, not only strong but improper expressions. Yet we have no corresponding terms to apply, in case of necessity, to the female. Why is this? Doubtless because we never want them. For the same reason, our forefathers transmitted to us the words, philosopher, astronomer, philologer, and so forth, without any feminine equivalent. Alas! for the wisdom of our ancestors! They never calculated on the March of Intellect.

We understand that it is in contemplation to coin a new word, memberess; it being confidently expected that by the time the new Houses of Parliament are finished, the progress of civilisation will have furnished us with female representatives.

In that case the House will be an assembly of Speakers.

But if all the old women are to be turned out of St. Stephen’s, and their places to be filled with young ones, the nation will hardly be a loser by the change.

SECTION III.

OF NUMBER.

Number is the consideration of an object as one or more; as, one poet, two, three, four, five poets; and so on, ad infinitum.

Other countries may reckon up as many poets as they please; England has one more.

The singular number expresses one object only; as, a towel, a viper.

The plural signifies more objects than one; as, towels, vipers.

Some nouns are used only in the singular number; dirt, pitch, tallow, grease, filth, butter, asparagus, &c.; others only in the plural; as, galligaskins, breeches, &c.

Some words are the same in both numbers; as, sheep, swine, and some others.

“A doctor, both to sheep and swine,”
Said Mrs. Glass, “I am;
For legs of mutton I can dress,
And shine in curing ham.”

The plural number of nouns is usually formed by adding s to the singular; as, dove, doves, love, loves, &c.

Julia, dove returns to dove,
Quid pro quo, and love for love;
Happy in our mutual loves,
Let us live like turtle doves!

When, however, the substantive singular ends in x, ch soft, sh, ss, or s, we add es in the plural.

But remember, though box
In the plural makes boxes,
That the plural of ox
Should be oxen, not oxes.

A few Singular Plurals, or Plurals popularly varied, are as follow:—

Note.—The singular is often used, by a kind of licence conceded to persons of refinement, for the plural; as, “May I trouble you for a bean?” “Will you assist Miss Spriggins to a pea?” So also people say, “A few green.” “Two or three radish,” &c.

SECTION IV.

OF CASE.

There is nearly as much difference between Latin and English substantives, with respect to the number of cases pertaining to each, as there is between a quack-doctor and a physician; for while in Latin substantives have six cases, in English they have but three. But the analogy should not be strained too far; for the fools in the world (who furnish the quack with his cases) more than double the number of the wise.

A VERY BAD CASE.

The cases of substantives are these: the Nominative, the Possessive or Genitive, and the Objective or Accusative.

The Nominative Case merely expresses the name of a thing, or the subject of the verb: as, “The doctors differ;”—“The patient dies!”

Possession, which is nine points of the law, is what is signified by the Possessive Case. This case is distinguished by an apostrophe, with the letter s subjoined to it: as, “My soul’s idol!”—“A pudding’s end.”

But when the plural ends in s, the apostrophe only is retained, and the other s is omitted: as, “The Ministers’ Step;”—“The Rogues’ March;”—“Crocodiles’ tears;”—“Butchers’ mourning.”

When the singular terminates in ss, the letter s is sometimes, in like manner, dispensed with: as, “For goodness’ sake!”—“For righteousness’ sake!” Nevertheless, we have no objection to “Guinness’s” Stout.

The Objective Case follows a verb active, and expresses the object of an action, or of a relation: as, “Spring beat Bill;” that is, Bill or “William Neate.” Hence, perhaps, the American phrase, “I’ll lick you elegant.”

By the by, it seems to us, that when the Americans revolted from the authority of England, they determined also to revolutionise their language.

The Objective Case is also used with a preposition: as, “You are in a mess.”

English substantives may be declined in the following manner:—

CHAPTER IV.

OF ADJECTIVES.

SECTION I.

OF THE NATURE OF ADJECTIVES AND THE DEGREES OF COMPARISON.

An English Adjective, whatever may be its gender, number, or case, like a rusty weathercock, never varies. Thus we say, “A certain cabinet; certain rogues.”

But as a rusty weathercock may vary in being more or less rusty, so an adjective varies in the degrees of comparison.

The degrees of comparison, like the genders, the Graces, the Fates, the Kings of Cologne, the Weird Sisters, the Jolly Postboys, and many other things, are three; the Positive, the Comparative, and the Superlative.

The Positive state simply expresses the quality of an object; as, fat, ugly, foolish.

The Comparative degree increases or lessens the signification of the positive; as, fatter, uglier, more foolish, less foolish.

The Superlative degree increases or lessens the positive to the highest or lowest degree; as, fattest, ugliest, most foolish, least foolish.

Amongst the ancients, Ulysses was the fattest, because nobody could compass him.

Aristides the Just was the ugliest, because he was so very plain.

The most foolish, undoubtedly, was Homer; for who was more natural than he?

The positive becomes the comparative by the addition of r or er; and the superlative by the addition of st or est to the end of it; as, brown, browner, brownest; stout, stouter, stoutest; heavy, heavier, heaviest; wet, wetter, wettest. The adverbs more and most, prefixed to the adjective, also form the superlative degree; as, heavy, more heavy, most heavy.

Most heavy is the drink of draymen: hence, perhaps, the weight of those important personages. More of this, however, in our forthcoming work on Phrenology.

Monosyllables are usually compared by er and est, and dissyllables by more and most; except dissyllables ending in y or in le before a mute, or those which are accented on the last syllable; for these, like monosyllables, easily admit of er and est. But these terminations are scarcely ever used in comparing words of more than two syllables.

We have some words, which, from custom, are irregular in respect of comparison; as, good, better, best; bad, worse, worst, &c. Much amusement may be derived from the comparisons of adjectives, as made by natural grammarians; a class of beings who generally inhabit the kitchen or stable, but may sometimes be met with in more elevated regions. A few examples will not be out of place. We are not speaking of servants, but of degrees of comparison; as,

With many others.

Here also may be adduced the Yankee’s “notion” of comparison; “My uncle’s a tarnation rogue; but I’m a tarnationer.”

SECTION II.

A FEW REMARKS ON THE SUBJECT OF COMPARISON.

Comparisons appear to have been strongly disapproved of by Dr. Johnson. “Sir,” said he, “the Whigs make comparisons.” It must be confessed that the Doctor’s meaning is not quite so evident here as it is in general; but that may be the fault of his biographer. Perhaps some of the Whigs had been making comparisons at his expense, or impertinent comparisons, which his temper, being positive, may have tempted them to indulge in. Or they may have been out in making their comparisons, which, in that case, must of course have been bad. But a truce to speculations of this kind, on the saying of one, another of whose dogmas was, that “the man who could make a pun would also pick a pocket.” We only hope, that such comparisons as we may make, will no more vex his spirit now than they would once have aroused his bile.

Lindley Murray judiciously observes, that “if we consider the subject of comparison attentively, we shall perceive that the degrees of it are infinite in number, or at least indefinite:” and he proceeds to say, “A mountain is larger than a mite; by how many degrees? How much bigger is the earth than a grain of sand? By how many degrees was Socrates wiser than Alcibiades? or by how many is snow whiter than this paper? It is plain,” quoth Lindley, “that to these and the like questions no definite answers can be returned.”

No; but an impertinent one may. Ask the first charity-boy you meet any one of them, and see if he does not immediately respond, “Ax my eye;” or, “As much again as half.”

But when quantity can be exactly measured, the degrees of excess may be exactly ascertained. A foot is just twelve times as long as an inch; a tailor is nine times less than a man.

Moreover, to compensate for the indefiniteness of the degrees of comparison, we use certain adverbs and words of like import, whereby we render our meaning tolerably intelligible; as, “Byron was a much greater poet than Muggins.” “Honey is a great deal sweeter than wax.” “Sugar is considerably more pleasant than the cane.” “Maria says, that Dick the butcher is by far the most killing young man she knows.”

The words very, exceedingly, and the like, placed before the positive, give it the force of the superlative; and this is called by some the superlative of eminence, as distinguished from the superlative of comparison. Thus, Very Reverend is termed the superlative of eminence, although it is the title of a dean, not of a cardinal; and Most Reverend, the appellation of an Archbishop, is called the superlative of comparison.

A Bishop, in our opinion, is Most Excellent.

The comparative is sometimes so employed as to express the same pre-eminence or inferiority as the superlative. For instance; the sentence, “Of all the cultivators of science, the botanist is the most crafty,” has the same meaning as the following “The botanist is more crafty than any other cultivator of science.”

Why? some of our readers will ask—

Because he is acquainted with all sorts of plants.

CHAPTER V.

OF PRONOUNS.

Pronouns or proxy-nouns are of three kinds; namely, the Personal, the Relative, and the Adjective Pronouns.

Note.—That when we said, some few pages back, that a pronoun was a word used instead of a noun, we did not mean to call such words as thingumibob, whatsiname, what-d’ye-call-it, and the like, pronouns.

And that, although we shall proceed to treat of the pronouns in the English language, we shall have nothing to do, at present, with what some people please to call pronoun-ciation.

SECTION I.

OF THE PERSONAL PRONOUNS.

“Mr. Haddams, don’t be personal, Sir!”

“I’m not, Sir.”

“You har, Sir!”

“What did I say, Sir?—tell me that.”

“You reflected on my perfession, Sir; you said, as there was some people as always stuck up for the cloth; and you insinnivated that certain parties dined off goose by means of cabbaging from the parish. I ask any gentleman in the westry, if that an’t personal?”

A SELECT VESTRY.

“Vell, Sir, vot I says I’ll stick to.”

“Yes, Sir, like vax, as the saying is.”

“Wot d’ye mean by that, Sir?”

“Wot I say, Sir!”

“You’re a individual, Sir!”

“You’re another, Sir!”

“You’re no gentleman, Sir!”

“You’re a humbug, Sir!”

“You’re a knave, Sir!”

“You’re a rogue, Sir!”

“You’re a wagabond, Sir!”

“You’re a willain, Sir!”

“You’re a tailor, Sir!”

“You’re a cobbler, Sir!” (Order! order! chair! chair! &c.)

The above is what is called personal language. How many different things one word serves to express in English! A pronoun may be as personal as possible, and yet nobody will take offence at it.

There are five Personal Pronouns; namely, I, thou, he, she, it; with their plurals, we, ye or you, they.

Personal Pronouns admit of person, number, gender, and case.

Pronouns have three persons in each number.

In the Singular;